Glancing at a photo or the mere mention of you reminds me of preconceived should and could have beens,
possibilities and probabilities all coalescing into that one single moment of confirmation that brings forth a sense of clarity from the myriad, confusing possibilities and uncertainty,
while simultaneously gifting a lasting taste,
much like the aftertaste of a bitter drink or the phantasmal linger of a lost limb or perhaps the constant reminder of a scar tissue in a conspicuous place while looking at a self-reflection casually or in haste.
A bitter pill to take despite the awareness and knowledge that it was for the best,
better to not mull too long over such things lest I am dragged to a dark, bottomless pit.